


Giving In

by DestielTheShipOfDreams



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Castiel (Supernatural) is Loved, Castiel Has Self-Worth Issues, Castiel/Dean Winchester First Kiss, Dean Winchester is Protective of Castiel, Dean is a Sweetheart, Emotionally Hurt Castiel, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Making Out, No Smut, One Shot, Resolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-06
Updated: 2017-06-06
Packaged: 2018-11-09 22:25:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11114151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DestielTheShipOfDreams/pseuds/DestielTheShipOfDreams
Summary: Castiel's self-esteem has hit rock bottom, and Dean is determined to lift his spirits. But all it takes is one unintended kiss to shift the mood...





	Giving In

**Author's Note:**

> Not sure where this fits in canon, it was inspired by the heart-to-heart in 'Hunteri Heroici'... enjoy!

Cas sat numbly on the low leather sofa in the bunker. His hands were clasped in front of him and no matter how hard he blinked, he couldn't stop himself from imagining blood spattered across the knuckles.

 

Blue eyes dull and shoulders hunched, he presented a miserable sight to Dean as the hunter strolled into the quiet room. Cas didn't look up at the sound of footsteps and Dean frowned as he approached the sofa, worried about how depressed his friend was becoming. He knew how it felt to be crushed under the weight of guilt and painful memories, yet he still wasn't sure how to help the angel. His natural tendency to avoid emotional discussion had held him back from expressing the empathy and care he felt for Cas; now, though, it was clear that he'd left his friend too much alone.

 

Dean sat gingerly down on the sofa, trying not to make too much noise or movement. He spoke Cas's name gently, then a little louder when he got no response. The angel turned his head almost reluctantly to meet Dean’s eyes with his own, and the hunter’s stomach twisted at the agony and panic he saw there.

 

"Dean," said Cas in a hoarse, unsteady voice. He seemed to gather himself and presented a faint, tense smile. "How are you?"

 

Dean shook his head at the familiar question, touched yet irritated as always by Cas's determination to put others before himself.

 

"Never mind me. You're a wreck, man. Something's really messing you up. What is it?"

 

Cas looked down again and sighed heavily, hands wrapped tightly around each other where they hung between his knees.

 

"It's everything," he said quietly. "Everything I've done. Everything I've lost. Everything I've become."

 

Separating his hands, he spread them out, palms facing up. "So much blood on my hands. How is it fair that I'm still here?"

 

"What you've become?" Dean replied, perplexed. "Cas... If anything, you've become more human. You care. A lot. You care more than most humans, actually. And you're still here because you deserve to be. Come on, you're a good person."

 

The angel gave a hollow, broken laugh, letting his hands go slack and dangle between his knees as he bowed his head.

 

"A good person," he repeated. "Right. Because a good person makes the decisions I've made. A good person gets his friends killed. I'm such a good person that my entire species has suffered because of me."

 

Dean shook his head helplessly, searching for the right words. “You can’t think that way. Look, I get it. You look at your past and it's ugly. You have regrets. We all do. And yeah, you've made some bad calls and screwed people over... But so have I. So has Sam. You gotta move on, buddy."

 

Dean placed a hand lightly on his friend's shoulder as he spoke the last sentence, hoping that his clumsy attempt at comforting words would be of some help. Cas didn't look at him, only shook his head in denial.

  

"No, Dean," he whispered hopelessly. Dean gave his shoulder a frustrated shake.

 

"Come on, man! Snap out of it. So you’ve got issues with your family, join the club. They're not your only family. Sam and I? We don't blame you for all the shit that's happened. Hell, we'd be long gone if you weren't around. Hey-"

 

The hunter jerked Cas's shoulder sharply, turning the angel towards him, and searched the ocean depths of his eyes. They were conflicted, resisting Dean's words yet clinging to his gaze like a lifeline. Dean tightened his grip and spoke with a firm intensity: "You need to forgive yourself."

 

Cas's face twisted with emotion. "How?" He turned away again, fists clenched in front of him, and drew in a ragged breath. "Dean, I don't deserve forgiveness or sympathy, and I don't deserve your friendship-"

 

His voice cracked, and something inside of Dean did too. Wrapping his arm around Cas's shoulders, he pulled the angel roughly to him and spoke into soft, dark hair, eyes closed.

 

"Stop," he murmured. "Stop, Cas."

 

Without quite realising what he was doing, the hunter pressed a lingering kiss to Cas's temple. Everything was peaceful for one still, quivering moment; Cas leaned in, exhaling against Dean's neck, the air between them warm and thick.

 

Green eyes flashed open and Dean froze, the angel’s scalp burning against his lips. What the hell was he doing? Cas had gone very still, his shallow breathing the only sound in the room. After a painfully eternal pause, he raised his head slowly, the tip of his nose brushing Dean’s skin.

 

The hunter couldn't even think, much less move. He remained wide-eyed, lips still slightly parted and mind stalled. Cas leaned back enough to meet Dean’s eyes and his own sapphire gaze was as confused and intense as Dean felt. The silence hung between them for several seconds, growing louder and louder.

 

Dean felt a rising panic - or excitement, or terror, or all three - as Cas's eyes flickered down to his mouth. He drew in his breath sharply, tearing his own gaze away and trying to think of a way to normalise the situation-

 

Cas kissed him full on the lips.

 

If Dean thought his mind had imploded before, he'd been seriously inexperienced with what mental implosion felt like. Everything stuttered to a halt as the angel’s soft lips pressed against his, the world narrowing only to physical awareness. Cas's stubble prickling lightly against his own, the heat of his body, the scent of him everywhere. Dean was kissing him back before he'd made any kind of decision to do so, his arm curling tighter around Cas’s shoulder even as his brain frantically shouted things about wrongness and crossing lines that shouldn't be crossed.

 

It was only the electric shock of Cas’s tentative touch on the hunter’s thigh that pulled him back to his senses. Dean wrenched away from Cas with a ragged gasp, eyes wild and bright. He jerked his arm back to his side, both fists tightly clenched. The angel slowly pulled his hand back too as his eyes fluttered open. He looked dazed but as he stared at Dean, fear began to creep into his expression.

 

“Dean...” he whispered. The hunter was breathing fast; he closed his eyes tightly, shaking his head. It was no good. Cas was still there when he opened them, flushed and unaccountably appealing.

 

Cas tried again. “Dean... I’m sorry. That was inappropriate. I didn’t... I mean, I never planned to...”

 

His blue eyes were enormous, wide and beseeching. He was actually wringing his hands in his lap. He looked nervous and increasingly afraid.

 

Dean was similarly terrified. He felt like a solid wall inside him had been blown apart, a wall he’d built over years and years, a wall that had protected him and bolstered him. Now it was in ruins, and he felt very exposed indeed. Worse, he felt as though he couldn’t even predict his own actions. Was he about to hit Cas and storm off, or kiss him again? Either option seemed likely, and that made him angry as well as scared. He stared blankly at the angel, who blinked anxiously at him before speaking again.

 

“Please say something.”

 

Dean’s right fist twitched. He swallowed and glanced away for a moment before looking back at Cas. When he spoke, his voice was hoarse and low: “I dunno what to say. You shouldn’t have... I mean, I sort of want to punch you in the face.”

 

Cas’s worried expression dropped into a frown and he actually pouted, looking both hurt and annoyed. “Seriously, Dean? That’s really not -”

 

Dean lurched forward and kissed him hard. He was still pissed off, but hitting Cas would have been wrong and it wouldn’t have made him feel much better and he seemed unable to stop himself from trying the other option. His kiss conveyed his anger; one hand gripped a fistful of the angel’s coat whilst the other threaded roughly into his hair. Cas grabbed Dean’s arms and made an indistinct noise of surprise against his mouth, followed by a low moan which did shocking things to Dean’s physiological state.

 

Somewhere in his mind he was justifying his actions to himself: if Cas wanted to kiss him, he’d damn well get a kiss, the kind of kiss that’d make him understand the old saying about playing with fire and getting burnt. With this flimsy excuse in place Dean pressed Cas backwards onto the sofa, melding their bodies together even as their tongues intertwined.

 

Dean was vaguely aware that the situation was getting way out of hand, but Cas’s fingers dug into his hips and his thoughts stuttered to a halt. Dean braced himself on one arm and wound the familiar blue tie around his other hand, knowing deep down that he’d always wanted to do so. He’d had hazy, quickly suppressed dreams before in which that tie had featured in some highly interesting ways.

 

Tugging lightly on the accessory, Dean slowed the kiss, testing out how his techniques affected the angel. This didn’t last long; Cas was far bolder than expected and when he brazenly slid his hands over the curve of the hunter’s ass, Dean gasped brokenly into his mouth. He was getting hard and it was happening fast. What happened to being in control? What happened to wanting to scare Cas off and teach him not to mess with Dean in that way? Even as these thoughts raced through his mind, Dean was pushing one thigh between the angel’s legs, pressing his own crotch against Cas’s hip, feeling the answering hardness rub against him.

 

Cas finally broke free of the kiss to arch his neck, inhaling sharply and digging his short nails into the other man’s back. Lips parted against the angel’s bared throat, Dean struggled to catch his breath. He opened his eyes. Here he was, grinding his best friend into a couch with his mouth on his neck and they both had goddamn erections because of it. Where had it all gone wrong? Dean had made up his mind about Cas years back, made up his mind about a lot of things, but now his convictions and his defences were unraveling fast. Groaning, he levered himself off of the angel, not looking him in the eye. Scooting over to the far end of the couch, he stared at the floor, leaning his elbows on his knees and clasping his hands in front of him. His cheeks burned in shame and shock.

 

He heard and felt Cas slowly sit up too. For several seconds the only sounds were the two men breathing, faster and heavier than usual. Dean could feel Cas’s eyes on him, could feel his confusion. The poor bastard must have no idea what was going on. Dean didn’t feel too enlightened himself. Squeezing his hands around each other, the hunter gulped thickly and then turned his head to meet his friend’s eyes. It was a mistake. Cas’s hair was a rumpled mess, his eyes were bright and shining, his skin flushed and his lips... They were pink and damp and swollen and they looked thoroughly kissed, and thoroughly kissable. His trench was lopsided and his tie was loosened, hanging crookedly.

 

Dean stared stupidly, mouth slack, for a few short seconds before swinging his head back forward, snapping his eyes and mouth closed and shifting uncomfortably.

 

“Shit, Cas,” he whispered weakly. “I’m sorry.”

 

Cas shifted closer. “Why are you sorry? I kissed you first.”

 

Dean chanced another glance sideways at him, lips quirking. “Yeah, I guess you kinda did. I, uh...”

 

He looked downwards again, struggling to find words, then jumped as Cas placed a hand on his shoulder. The angel spoke quietly and kindly. “Dean, I understand your confusion and your fear. I know you weren’t planning this. But please... we both need this.”

 

Head spinning, Dean stared blankly at the floor for several moments before nodding in a rush, squeezing his eyes shut. Grabbing Cas’s hand, he stood quickly and opened his eyes, but didn’t look at his companion for fear of chickening out. He wanted this, more than he’d ever let himself admit, and he didn’t want to push Cas away when his angel was already so far from him, so often. Tugging Cas with him, he made his way quickly to his room, not saying a word, heart pounding the whole time. A reckless excitement was starting to set in, like he was a kid breaking the rules. Cas trailed wordlessly behind him, grip tight and reassuring on his hand.

 

Thanking the absent God above that Sam was out, Dean pushed his bedroom door open and then awkwardly ushered Cas through, letting go of his hand and glancing briefly into his eyes. This whole scenario felt horribly like the first few times he’d been alone with girls as a teenager, sneaking off to some room to make out, palms sweaty and heart pounding. He felt utterly sixteen again, although he’d had enough experience since then to rival a pornstar. Cas smiled faintly at him, sliding past and standing expectantly in the middle of the room. Dean couldn’t work out if the angel was nervous or completely calm. He shut the door behind him and jumped at the sound, feeling like a complete idiot.

 

“So, uh...” he croaked, hands hanging loose by his sides. He cleared his throat before continuing, trying to maintain eye contact even though it made him feel drunk. “In movies this is the part where we jump each other instead of having an awkward silence, you know?”

 

Cas’s slight smile grew- apparently he wasn’t nervous, at least not like Dean was - and he shrugged lightly. “I haven’t seen many films with romantic or sexual scenes. You don’t like chick flicks.”

 

A grin flickered on Dean’s face and he relaxed a little as he stepped towards Cas. “You only watch films I like?”

 

“Well, I only watch films with you, so yes. I only do anything human with you.”

 

“Like making out on sofas, huh?” Dean was fully smirking now, hands in his pockets as he sauntered a step closer. Cas looked him up and down, the blue in his eyes sparkling like water in sunlight.

 

“So it would seem.”

 

Dean took another step forward so that he was in Cas’s space, mere inches between them. His smile faded as he stared into the angel’s clear, honest eyes. Damn it, he was feeling emotional instead of just horny. Horny had been easy to deal with. He knew how to handle horny. He licked his lips nervously and Cas’s eyes followed the movement with interest. Well, at least one of them had their mind on the job. Still, Dean couldn’t quite shake the conversation he’d been having with Cas right before they’d ended up kissing the hell out of each other on that sofa. He took a deep breath and spoke, eyes darting around the room but always coming back to meet the angel’s gaze.

 

“Cas, look, not that I’m trying to put a damper on the situation because, um, I really want this. You. Yeah. But... OK, shit, but I have to say this. You are a good person. You are worth believing in and you do deserve forgiveness. You do. I mean, when we met, you said that I didn’t believe that I was worth saving. But you obviously knew different. Well, now I’m telling you that I know different. Even if you think you’ve screwed things up beyond repair. I know different. So...”

 

He trailed off, stomach squirming unpleasantly. What a horrendous chick flick moment. On top of kissing a dude, crossing a thickly drawn line within his closest friendship, planning to screw said dude and therefore completely irreversibly shatter said friendship... here he was, pouring his heart out like he was going for an Oscar. Fuck.

 

But Cas didn’t look put off or spooked by Dean’s little speech. His facial expression hadn’t changed, but his eyes were suspiciously bright and his lips trembled slightly as he pressed them together. He lurched forward and quite suddenly, Dean was enfolded in his strong embrace, hearing a rumbling murmur in his ear.

 

“Thank you, Dean. Thank you.”

 

Patting his friend’s back lightly and in a very platonic way, Dean suddenly wondered if he’d pulled them too far out of the sexy zone to go back. Maybe it was for the best. He’d kept a long list of very good reasons not to act upon his vague attraction to Cas, for years. He was straight, wasn’t he? He had always been straight. It was important that he was because he always had been, because he was supposed to be. And Cas was like a brother, right? A fascinating, stupidly hot brother who Dean adored so much it terrified him. Shit, shit, shit.

 

“Hey,” he heard himself muttering into Cas’s ear, and a voice in his head was screaming and crying at him not to do this, not to put all the walls back up, not to keep pretending, but he blocked it out as always. “This all got pretty out of hand. I don’t know what I was doing, dragging you in here. If you want to go, then just-”

 

Cas pulled back and before Dean could even look at him properly, his lips were on the hunter’s, his hands coming up to frame his face, thumbs caressing his cheekbones distractingly. Dean’s head span and he knew that he looked completely idiotic when Cas pulled back to stare at him. He blinked slowly, green eyes wide and soft. Cas looked pained and a little desperate.

 

“I don’t want to go anywhere,” he whispered, hands still on Dean’s face. “Please don’t ask me to, Dean.”

 

Well, alright then. Dean exhaled unsteadily, nodded once and moved in for a deeper kiss, gripping Cas’s coat in both hands and pulling them flush against each other.

 

He hoped that Sam would be out for a long time.


End file.
